Collection by Jing Shan of Eastern Wu
Master Zhiyu of the Buddha-Wisdom said: "A swift horse, though it may gallop wildly, does not dare to run unchecked—this is due to the restraint of bit and reins. A petty person, though they may act with force and arrogance, does not dare to indulge their passions—this is due to the control of laws and punishments. The wandering mind, though it may drift and scatter, does not dare to grasp at objects—this is due to the power of mindful awareness. Alas, if a learner lacks mindful awareness, it is like a swift horse without bit and reins, or a petty person without laws and punishments. How then can they cut off greed and desire, and govern their deluded thoughts?"
The wisdom of the Buddha teaches Shui'an: There are four essential qualities for an abbot. First, virtue and wisdom. Second, words and deeds. Third, benevolence and righteousness. Fourth, propriety and discipline. Virtue, wisdom, words, and deeds are the root of teaching. Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and discipline are the branches of teaching. Without the root, nothing can be established. Without the branches, nothing can be perfected. The ancient sages saw that practitioners could not govern themselves, so they established monasteries to shelter them and appointed abbots to guide them. Yet the dignity of the monastery is not for the abbot alone, nor are abundant resources provided merely for the practitioners. All is done for the sake of the Buddha's path. Therefore, a good abbot must first honor virtue and wisdom and uphold proper words and deeds. A good practitioner must first cultivate benevolence and righteousness and follow propriety and discipline. Thus, an abbot cannot stand without practitioners, and practitioners cannot be perfected without an abbot. The abbot and the practitioners are like the body and its arms, the head and its feet—properly proportioned and harmonious, they depend on each other to move forward. Hence it is said: Practitioners are sustained by the monastery, and the monastery is sustained by virtue and wisdom. If the abbot lacks virtue and wisdom, the monastery will surely decline.(Recorded Sayings)
Master Shui'an once said: The Book of Changes states, "A noble person anticipates potential troubles and takes preventive measures." Therefore, the ancients, contemplating the great peril of life and death, guarded against it with the Way. Thus they were able to transmit their teachings widely and preserve them for generations. People today, however, consider seeking the Way to be impractical and remote, not as immediate and tangible as pursuing profit. Consequently, they compete in chasing superficial glamour, calculating trivial gains, focusing only on immediate concerns, and harboring short-sighted plans. Wherever they go, none are willing to make plans even for a year ahead—how much less do they consider the matter of life and death? As a result, learners grow increasingly shallow, monastic communities decline day by day, discipline deteriorates, leading to decay and collapse, almost beyond remedy. Alas! Should we not take this as a warning?
Shui'an said: In my early days, I traveled to Yunju Monastery. There, I heard Gaochan speak during the night assembly, saying: "The ultimate truth stands upright, never bending to human sentiment. It demands a sincere heart and correct intention, free from all affectation and partiality. Affectation leads to deceit and flattery; partiality strays from the Middle Way. Both are incompatible with the ultimate truth." Reflecting on his words, I found them close to reason, and so I earnestly practiced them. It was only when I met my late teacher, Fozhi, that my mind opened wide and I attained a great awakening. Only then did I feel I had not failed the aspiration that drove my lifelong pilgrimage.
Shui'an said, "Wherever Yuetang served as abbot, he took the practice of the Way as his personal responsibility. He did not send out fundraisers or engage in soliciting donations. Each year, he relied on whatever the monastery naturally received to meet its needs. When monks with the aspiration to go out and seek alms came to him, he often turned them away. Some asked, 'The Buddha instructed monks to carry a bowl and rely on alms for their livelihood. Why do you refuse and not allow it?' Yuetang replied, 'In the Buddha's own time, it was appropriate. But I fear that if we do it today, there will inevitably be those who seek profit, to the point of selling themselves.' Reflecting on this, Yuetang's vigilance against the slightest deviation and his profound clarity in preventing gradual decline were truly insightful and honest words. They still ring in my ears today. Looking at the present situation, it has gone even further—not just selling oneself, but far worse."
Shui'an said to Vice Minister You Yanzhi, "In the past, Dayu, Ciming, Guquan, and Langya formed a group to study under Fenyang. The region east of the Yellow River was bitterly cold, and everyone dreaded it. Only Ciming remained unwavering in his commitment to the Way, diligent from dawn till dusk without rest. When he felt drowsy during night meditation, he would prick himself with an awl and sigh, 'The ancients regarded the matter of life and death as paramount, neglecting food and sleep. Who am I to indulge in idleness? To live without benefiting the world and die without leaving a legacy—that is to abandon oneself.' One day, he bid farewell and left. Fenyang sighed and said, 'Now that Chuyuan has departed, my teachings will spread eastward.'"
Master Shui'an said: The ancient virtuous abbots practiced the Way through their own conduct, never being careless or indulgent. In the past, Master Fenyang often lamented: "In this degenerate age, practitioners are difficult to transform." Master Ciming replied: "It's actually quite easy. The problem lies in those who guide the Dharma not being skilled in teaching." Fenyang said: "Even the sincere people of ancient times took twenty or thirty years to accomplish realization." Ciming responded: "That is not the teaching of sages. Those who truly cultivate the Way can achieve it in a thousand days." Some thought Ciming was speaking recklessly and did not listen. As the Fenyang region was cold, night lectures were suspended. A remarkable monk said to Fenyang: "There are six great beings in your assembly. Why do you not teach the Dharma?" Within three years, six people indeed attained realization. Fenyang once composed a verse:
The foreign monk's golden staff shines bright, Coming to Fenyang to request the Dharma. Six individuals become great vessels— Urged and requested, the teaching is spread.
(Recorded in "West Lake Accounts" and monastic biographies.)
The monk Qing of Touzi Temple painted a portrait of Water Hermitage and requested a verse, saying:
Heir of Qing, the Chan practitioner, Solitary and unyielding, unmatched in the world. One simple meal at dawn and dusk, His side never touching the mat. Deeply immersed in meditative absorption, Beyond the rise and fall of breath. His name reached the ninefold heavens, Discussing Chan, selecting virtues. The emperor’s countenance greatly pleased, Bestowing gold and silk as gifts. Three times he declined with strength, The sovereign then praised and sighed—a true practitioner of the Way. Grasses and trees glow with radiance, Transmitting my humble form. Incense is lit, a verse requested— This is what is called: “Blue emerges from indigo, yet bluer than indigo.”(Seen in the portrait.)
Shui'an said: My late teacher Fozhi once said: Ancestor Yan of Dongshan once told Geng Longxue, "This mountain monk has Yuanwu, just as a fish has water and a bird has wings." Therefore, Prime Minister Ziyan praised them, saying: "Teacher and disciple matched so well, a rare encounter of their time. The bond between them from beginning to end—who could come between it?" Prime Minister Ziyan truly understood what he spoke of.
Now I observe many respected elders everywhere who harbor cunning minds to control their disciples, while disciples rely on power and profit to serve their elders. Host and guest trade in mutual benefit, superiors and inferiors deceive one another—how can the Dharma flourish and monasteries thrive under such conditions?(From a letter to Meishan Run.)
Shui'an said: To move people with words, it is essential that they be profound and heartfelt. If words are not profound, the impression they leave will be shallow. Who would then hold them close to heart?
Long ago, Patriarch Baiyun saw off our master's master as he took up residence at Simian Temple. With earnest care, he advised: "The ancestral way is in decline, as precarious as a stack of eggs. Do not indulge in idleness and waste your time in vain, lest you further undermine your highest virtue. Be broad-minded and tolerant, benefit others, and preserve the community. Uphold this matter to repay the kindness of the Buddhas and patriarchs." Those who heard this at the time—who among them was not deeply moved?
Recently, you were summoned for an audience in the imperial court. This is truly a blessing for the Dharma gate. You must humble yourself, honor the Way, and keep the intention to benefit and aid others. Do not boast of yourself or praise your own merits. The wise ones of the past remained humble, reverent, and cautious, thus preserving themselves and perfecting their virtue. They did not take pride in power or status, and so were able to leave a pure reputation that resonates through the ages.
I fear our time together is short, and we may not meet again. Hence, I offer this earnest admonition.(See the letter to Touzi.)
In his youth, Shui'an was exceptionally talented and ambitious. He valued integrity and courage, shunning superficiality and never fussing over trivial matters. His mind was as vast as mountains and valleys, and he dedicated himself to righteousness. Even when calamities struck, he never showed a trace of fear or despair. He served as abbot at eight monasteries across four regions, always diligent and devoted, with his heart set on spreading the Dharma and establishing its practice.
In the fifth year of the Chunxi era, he retired to Jingci Temple by West Lake. He left behind a verse:
For six years I swept the imperial capital's temple, Turning rubble into a palace of the Buddhas. Today, my work complete, I return, With the staff in hand stirring a pure breeze in all directions.
Though scholars and commoners tried to hold him back, he could not be stopped. He boarded a small boat to Tianning Temple in Xiuzhou. Not long after, he fell ill, bid farewell to the assembly, and passed away.
Master Chang of the Moon Hall said: In the past, the great Zen master Dazhi, concerned that monks in the degenerate age might become arrogant and lazy, specifically established rules to guard against this. According to each person's capacity, he assigned appropriate duties. The abbot resided in the main quarters, while the community lived in the common hall. He set up ten departments with heads, maintaining a solemn order akin to an official administration. Those in leadership positions upheld the major principles, while those below managed the various details. This ensured that higher and lower levels supported one another, like the body directing the arm, and the arm directing the fingers—all following in unison. Thus, earlier generations respectfully upheld and diligently practiced these rules, because the legacy of the ancient sages had not yet faded.
Now I observe the decline of the monastic community. Learners value versatile talent but disdain upholding integrity; they admire superficial elegance but neglect genuine simplicity. Day by day, month by month, they gradually sink into shallowness. At first, they seek temporary comfort and ease. As they grow accustomed to this, they come to see it as natural and right—not recognizing it as improper or unreasonable. Those above anxiously fear those below; those below watch intently, waiting for missteps from those above. In daily interactions, they use sweet words and humble gestures to flatter and please each other. Given an opportunity, they resort to ruthless schemes and deceit to undermine and harm. Success is praised as wise; failure is scorned as foolish. No one any longer considers the order of seniority or the principles of right and wrong. If one does it, others imitate; if those below propose it, those above comply; if earlier ones practiced it, later ones follow suit. Alas! Without a teacher of sage-like virtue, who through vowed determination has accumulated a century of merit, how can such entrenched faults be reformed?(From a letter to Master Shun.)
Master Yuetang resided at Jingci Temple for the longest time. Someone once remarked, "Venerable Master, you have been practicing the Way for many years, yet we have not heard of any disciples under your guidance. Does this not fall short of the profound teachings?" Yuetang did not respond.
Another day, the person brought it up again. Yuetang then said, "Have you not heard the story of the man who grew melons and loved them dearly? On a scorching midsummer day, at the height of noon, he watered them. The melons withered and rotted almost immediately. Why? It wasn't that his care was lacking, but he watered them at the wrong time—precisely what ruined them."
"Many elders in various monasteries take on disciples without first observing whether their inner practice is sincere and their capacity profound. They only rush to make them 'accomplished.' Yet, upon closer examination, their virtue is found to be tainted, their words and actions contradictory, and their integrity hypocritical. Is this not loving them beyond what is appropriate? It is exactly like watering melons at noon."
"I deeply fear being laughed at by those with true insight. That is why I do not do it."
Yuetang said: Huanglong was residing at Jicui Temple and, due to illness, did not emerge for three months. Zhenjing prayed earnestly day and night, even going so far as to burn incense on his head and scorch his arms, looking upward and pleading for hidden assistance. Hearing of this, Huanglong reprimanded him: "Life and death are simply part of my lot. For you to engage in meditation yet fail to grasp the principle to such an extent!" Zhenjing calmly replied: "The monastic community could do without Ke Wen, but it cannot do without you, Master." Those with insight remarked that Zhenjing's reverence for his teacher and the Dharma was so sincere and profound that he would surely accomplish great things in the future.(Beishan Jiwen).
Yuetang said: Scholar Huang Luzhi once remarked, "Zen Master Huanglong Nan possessed profound depth of character, unswayed by external matters. Throughout his life, he was without pretense—some of his disciples never witnessed him display joy or anger in all their years with him. Even toward servants and laborers, he treated everyone with sincerity. It was through this genuine demeanor, without raising his voice or showing agitation, that he revived the Way of Master Ciming. This was no mere accident."
Yuetang said: On the Shangsi Festival in the year Jiyan, Zhong Xiang rebelled in Liyang. Master Wenshu Dao was caught in the disaster. As the rebel forces grew stronger, his disciples fled. The master said: "Can calamity be avoided?" He then resolutely remained in his abbot's quarters, and in the end was killed by the rebels. The layman Wugou wrote a postscript to his recorded sayings: "To cherish life and fear death is human nature. Only the enlightened one realizes that fundamentally there is no birth, so although alive, there is nothing to cherish. He comprehends that there is no extinction, so although dead, there is nothing to fear. Therefore, when facing life, death, and calamity, he does not waver from his principles. Was the master such a person? With the master's virtue, integrity, and righteousness, he is fully capable of teaching the monastic community and setting an example for future generations." The master's name was Zhengdao, a native of Danling, Meizhou, and a successor of Fojian.(One version is found in the records of Master Hui of Lushan Yuefu.)
Master Xinwen Ben once said, "Many monks fall ill because of their practice of Chan. Some are afflicted in their eyes and ears, taking staring with raised brows, straining their eyes, tilting their ears, or nodding as Chan. Some are afflicted in their speech, taking wild words, twisted phrases, or reckless shouting as Chan. Some are afflicted in their limbs, taking stepping forward or back, pointing east or west as Chan. Some are afflicted in their hearts and minds, taking endless pondering of mysteries, surpassing emotions, or abandoning views as Chan. In truth, all of these are illnesses. Only a genuine master, with keen discernment, can see at a glance whether one has truly grasped it or not, and upon entering the gate, distinguish whether one has arrived or not. Then, with precise guidance—piercing through attachments and breaking through stagnation—they test what is genuine or false, determine what is empty or real, without clinging to a single method or losing sight of flexibility. Only then can one ultimately reach the realm of peace, joy, and effortless ease."
The mind hears and says: The ancients taught that among a thousand people, the outstanding one is called "heroic"; among ten thousand heroes, the exceptional one is called "illustrious." When a monk possesses wisdom and conduct that becomes known throughout the monastic community, is he not close to being a heroic and illustrious person? If only one can diligently investigate, discard the empty and grasp the real, each finding their proper use, then regardless of whether the monastery is large or small, or whether the assembly is many or few, all will follow their transformation.
In the past, Fengxue was among ordinary folk, Yaoshan tended the ox pen, Changgong lived at Damei, and Ciming dwelt in Jingchu. At that time, if the common crowd had sought them by status and appearance, they would surely have met them with disdain. Yet once these masters ascended the teacher's seat, mounted the splendid throne, and were surrounded by countless disciples, they radiated the light of the Buddhas and patriarchs in a declining age. What monastic community would not bow to their influence?
Moreover, these predecessors all carried within them rare talents and heroic, illustrious spirits. Still, they were able to humble themselves in times of obscurity, enduring shame and bearing disgrace, mingling with the world and flowing with its currents. If they could be so, how much more should those who come after them?
Alas! The past is like the present; this is like that. If one must wait for a Yaoshan or a Fengxue to take as teacher, such encounters come but once in a thousand years. If one must wait for a Damei or a Ciming to befriend, such figures appear but once in a hundred generations.
Generally, affairs develop from subtle beginnings to prominent ends; achievements accumulate from small efforts into great accomplishments. Never has it been seen that one attains success without learning, or reaches understanding without cultivation. If one awakens to this principle, then teachers can be sought, friends can be chosen, the Way can be studied, and virtue can be cultivated. Then, what undertaking in all the world cannot be accomplished?
The ancients said: "To know people is truly difficult—even the sages considered it a trouble." How much more so for others?(Letter to Zhuan)